


"Do You Swim?"

by NathanielCardeu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Mild Smut, Snark, Stan Lee Cameo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 13:38:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19702480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NathanielCardeu/pseuds/NathanielCardeu
Summary: Billionaire playboy, Tony Stark, likes to slum it with his father’s employees now and then, just to try and find something (or someone) interesting.Scaring off one of the baristas at his father's Carpathian Mountain holiday resort lands him in hot water with Pansy; in more ways than one, if he's lucky.





	"Do You Swim?"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxDustNight88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxDustNight88/gifts).



> Written for The Melting Pot's Christmas in July challenge.
> 
> I had a lot of fun with this, so thank you to the admins for letting me be a part of it x

**Midnight**

The decorative rock at the pool's edge scraped against her leg, and she hissed.  _ That’ll leave a mark! _ His concerned face popped up from between her thighs and she grabbed his hair, shoving him back down again.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned, grinding herself against him. The wave machine let out another surge, and she grinned as he vanished beneath the surface before rearing up, coughing and spluttering. “Try not to drown,” she sniggered. “Need a snorkel?”

“It's midnight! Why’s that damn thing still on?” he choked.

“How should I know? I don’t run the place.” She pulled her bikini top off and dug her fingernails into his back. “Now, shut up, and stick your dick in me.”

* * *

**Afternoon**

"Brilliant! That was just bloody  _ brilliant _ work. Feel better about yourself? Now what, rich boy?"

"Hey, don't snap at me, Dark Roast Dolly! You saw what he did; that coffee was cold." Stark peered over his sickeningly expensive sunglasses. "Well, tepid. He didn’t  _ have _ to take it so hard..."

“He was training!” Pansy growled in frustration. "And you're an idiot," she declared, stalking away.

She had reached the counter and angrily flung up the divider, when she heard, "Hey, Parkinson, wait up!"

Turning to look, she saw Stark jogging over. She waited, then slammed the divider in his face, causing him to jerk back with a shout. "Oh, I  _ am _ sorry," she simpered, "customers need to stay on  _ that  _ side of the counter. Thank you." Her smile twisted into a grimace, but she forced a more natural smile as she reached her till. "Sorry for the wait, ma’am, what can I get you?"

"Frappuccino, dear," the sunburnt lady said, fanning herself with a newspaper.

"That's Starbucks, ma'am. Unless Mister Stark has bought them and I've not heard, we can't call them that. His narcissist of a son would probably rebrand them as Starkbucks, or something equally repugnant…"

"Not a bad idea, Beanie Baby," Stark said, leaning on the counter next to the customer and miming fingers guns. "Might call Kevin, make him an offer."

She rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the lady. "We have my own blended iced coffee recipe that I think you'll enjoy?"

"As long as it's sweet, with cream and coffee, and  _ cold _ , I don't care what you call it, honey," the lady said with a laugh.

"Coming right up."

Pansy moved with efficiency and speed--tipping ice, pouring flavoured syrup, blending coffee--while maintaining a conversation about the weather and the resort with the customer. By the time she had left, Pansy had upsold her an ice-cream and a battery-powered fan.

"Hey, you're good!" Stark said, stepping in front of her, ignoring the annoyed glares from the other customers. "Are we paying you enough?” He rested a finger against the cappuccino machine’s bean hopper. “I feel like we should be paying you more, putting up with this daily grind-"

"You mind taking your terrible puns and getting out of paying customers' way?" Pansy said, glaring into his obnoxious mirrored shades.

"I'm making an order. Trying to give you a pay rise too, if you want it-"

"One, you don’t employ me, your father does. Two, you have no authority here. Three, you're cutting line; if you want to order something, get to the back and wait like everyone else. Or, better still, go jump in the wave pool!" She ignored his mock offended expression. "Yes, sir? My apologies for the wait."

"You treat everyone like this, Parkinson?" Tony said, walking away.

"Only the ones that deserve it," she muttered, before putting Tony-bloody-Stark out of her mind.

She worked fast, having to take the order and then make each drink herself. Outwardly, she maintained her friendly customer focused face; internally, she was furious. The kid had been just about trained up, and now she was back to square one! With her old school friend, Astoria, on maternity leave, and that dumb flake, Lovegood, not showing up again, she was having to work for three. Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough, so she could jump in the pool. Turning to the next customer, she said, “Good afternoon, sorry about the wait, what can I… Oh, for fu-”

“Language, Violet,” he drawled, leaning on the counter, his chin on his hand.

“I thought you’d left!”

“You told me I had to queue up.” He flashed an expensive smile at her, peering over the top of his sunglasses. “Is the purple in your hair part of the uniform? It’s nice, suits you. It’s not really ‘on brand’ for Stark Industries though, is it? It’s really warm in here, by the way.”

She mopped her brow with her apron and gave him a sarcastic smile. “Gee, thanks for pointing that out, I hadn’t noticed.” She flicked her dark hair out of her eyes, unconsciously trying to conceal the purple streaks.

“Want me to fix the A/C?”

“Since you clearly have no intention of buying anything, knock yourself out.” She pointed down the counter, ignoring his smile. “Yes, sir?” she said, looking past Stark and trying to dismiss him from her mind again.

Business was steady, the Stark Holiday Resort in Transylvania--the fourth such resort built by the global company--being a surprise hit amongst some of the upper class. Pansy served people she recognised as celebrities, and even one person she suspected was royalty.

"What can I get you, old timer?" Pansy asked with a grin as a familiar customer stepped up to the till. "Usual?"

The old man, with the grey hair and moustache, tugged on the brim of his baseball cap and smiled at her. "That'd be lovely."

"So, how are things?" she asked as she prepared his drink. "Found anything you like here? Any new favourite foods yet?"

“You know, I’m not really good at picking favorites," he said. "I like Italian if it has a good thick sauce… and Chinese. I enjoy anything that isn’t poisonous.”

"Good rule for life," she said with a grin. "How long you staying for?"

"Just another few days, then upward and onward."

"Excelsior, right?" she said, handing him the drink.

He smiled, and tucked something that looked suspiciously like a hundred dollar bill into the tip jar. Taking hold of her hand, he planted a kiss on the back. "Excelsior, indeed, Miss Parkinson. I’ll be in the lounge bar if you're at a loss for someone to dance with later?"

She gave a snort of laughter, covering her mouth in embarrassment and waving him away. "Go on, get out of here, you old flirt," she giggled.

"That old guy bothering you?" Stark said, popping up from behind the counter. He had removed his suit jacket, and the back of his shirt was damp.

"No, he wasn't bothering me.  _ You  _ bother me! What are you doing down there?”

"Just trying to help. You like me though, right?"

"You're deliberately aggravating, and you regularly invade my workplace."

"I like it here when you're on duty."

"I'm sure it's just the coffee," she said with another eye roll. "If you like it here so much, you can help make it nicer by fixing the air con!"

"Your wish, my command," he said, brandishing a remote and pressing a button. There was a pop and a puff of smoke from the unit above Pansy’s head. "Ahh," he muttered, stabbing at the button, "that was supposed to be a bit more… air conditiony than that…”

"Oh yeah, that's much better," she sneered. "Thank you  _ so much _ , MacGyver."

“Well, the control panel works perfectly now.”

She sighed and looked at the queue, shorter than before but still more than a handful. "That’s what I get for thinking you had any useful skills, other than looking pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

Pansy scoffed. “Look, any chance you know what you're doing with this stuff?" she said, gesturing to the coffee makers and blenders. "You said before that you've been a barista? I need to get more ice... If I leave you alone for five minutes, are you going to wreck the place?"

"No problem," he said, clapping his hands together then rolling up his shirt sleeves. "About time I had a refresher."

"Please try not to screw it up," she muttered.

"I mean, it was more ‘been  _ with _ a barista’, but she taught me the basics…"

"Good enough!" she said, dashing off to the kitchen area.

Stepping into the freezer, she gave a sigh as the cold air washed over her.  _ Just ten minutes _ , she thought, her head lolling back.  _ Surely he can last ten minutes without blowing the place up… _

She had a vision of the smoke puffing out of the air con unit.

“Bollocks,” she muttered, grabbing the ice.

By the time she made it back, Pansy fully expected the coffee shop to be in flames, people running and screaming, with Stark stood in the middle throwing money around. She cackled at the image, but was stopped in her tracks as a blast of soothing, air-conditioned air washed over her. The queue was longer, and many of the tables were filling up with people, just coming in and sitting down. With the temperature reaching the mid-30s, that wasn’t surprising. Especially as it seemed Stark's reputation for being a technological savant wasn't completely nonsense.

She leant against the doorframe and watched him for a moment. Part of her was hoping for some sort of catastrophe to strike, but he seemed to be handling himself well enough.

“You getting paid to stand there and watch me do your job,” he called over to her when he noticed, “or do you just like staring at me?”

“In your dreams, McDuck,” she scoffed, dumping the ice into the container. “Just amazed you know how to do an honest day’s work without flirting.”

“Well,” he said, smiling at her warmly, “I can always multitask.”

“Please, don’t do yourself a mischief on my account. Your father would not approve, I’m sure.”

“I doubt it,” he laughed.

“Has he forgiven you for the last settlement he had to pay out to an employee?” Pansy asked quietly, with a smirk.

“Not sure I’m supposed to talk about it,” he muttered. “That’s sort of the point of a settlement…”

“Well, that confirms the rumour about why the wave pool was closed last month, so thank you for that.” She simpered at him, laughing as his expression swung between amusement and offence. “Oh, cheer up, Stark. You’re up.”

He moved forward to serve the next customer as Pansy finished preparing the previous one’s drink. Without discussion, they had begun to alternate to deal with the queue of customers. Pansy had to admit that Stark wasn’t a terrible co-worker; he was able to use the machines well enough, he didn’t get in her way, and at least the conversation was amusingly sarcastic. Before too long, the queue had been whittled down to a few stragglers. At some point during the last hour or so, he had thrown on the spare apron, and Pansy had smirked.

“Wearing an apron with your own name on it. Conceited much?”

“Says you, with my name printed across your ass,” he said with a wink, wiping foam off of the steam wand with a cloth, and handing over the customer’s latte with the other hand.

Pansy made a disgusted noise, flicking at her skirt. “I bet that was your idea?”

“Who, me? Ensure all the ladies' skirts had ‘Stark’ stencilled just above the backside so that you all look like you’re branded and part of my own personal harem? How could you think such a thing?”

“You’re disgusting,” she said, her nose in the air, ratcheting another dose of ground coffee into the portafilter and locking it into place on the group.

“I wouldn’t do anything to an employee-”

“Not again, certainly.”

“-unless they asked nicely.”

“I hope you’re not expecting  _ me _ to ask, nicely or otherwise.” Pansy looked him up and down. “You’re not my type, Don Wannabe, no matter how big the waves are. Besides, I’m sure you’ve been warned away from me already.”

“Some people may have said you were trouble, with a capital T.”

“Excuse me?  _ I _ am trouble in all caps, bolded and underlined, thank you very much.”

He gave a bark of laughter. “My sincere apologies, Little Miss Trouble.”

“I should think so too,” she said, drawing herself up on tiptoes until she was at eye level with him. He had taken his sunglasses off, and she found herself looking him in the eyes for what seemed like the first time. For a moment, they froze. Just a beat, an infinitesimal pause.

“That purple eyeshadow brings out the green in your eyes," he said under his breath.

"Shut up, Stark," she snapped, her voice catching on his name. She shoved past him, none too gently, and fixed a polite smile on her face for the next customer.

_ Stupid Tony fricking Stark, _ she thought furiously,  _ with his ridiculously expensive cotton shirts, overly priced sunglasses, melting chocolate eyes, and perfectly groomed beard. God, he’s annoying! If he hadn’t scared my trainee off, I wouldn’t be in this situation! _

“Enjoy your drink.” His voice cut through Pansy’s angry and confused thoughts as he held a drink out to a customer.

“Coffee from a handsome man tastes so much better,” the young redhead said with a lascivious grin, and Pansy pretended to gag.

“No,” Stark said, a frown on his face, “that doesn’t make sense. As gorgeous as I am, my looks have nothing to do with the flavour. That’s the beans, roast, the skill of the barista. The ultimate flavour, when it hits your tongue, has nothing to do with…” He paused, pulling the cup away from the redhead’s grasp as she tried to reach for it.

Pansy smirked, waving her last customer off. She mentally cheered as the clock chimed five!

“I mean,” Stark mused, “there  _ could _ be a connection between the visual stimulation and the dopamine released by the consumption of the beverage. You see something you like, you get a shot of neurochemicals, it changes your perceptions.” He leant forward, staring at the woman intently as she leaned away from him nervously. “But isn’t that scary? Nothing actually changes! The coffee tastes the same, but the chemicals are  _ lying _ to you! You can’t rely on your own head to provide you with an accurate, objective picture of your own reality!”

This was too much for the woman, and she snatched the cup from the counter and dashed out.

He winked at Pansy, and she let out a cackle, locking the door. “I thought you were an engineer? When did you become an expert in neurochemistry?” she said once they were alone.

He shrugged. “I read a lot.”

“You do realise she was flirting with you, right?” She frowned, hearing the annoyance in her voice.

“Oh, I know. She wasn’t very good at it…”

“Well, clearly-”

“You’re better.”

She gave a snort of laughter. “And who says I like you?”

“You do.” He stepped closer. “Little things. Pupil dilation, the slightly elevated pulse in your neck-”

Pansy had backed up, her back hitting the counter. “You looking at my neck a lot?”

“Fair bit.” There was a loaded pause as they stared into each other’s eyes. “Do you swim? I hear there’s a great wave pool here. Paid for it myself.”

“You can never resist reminding me that you’ve got more money than God, can you?”

“I don’t like people to forget. Gives me a buzz.”

“You going to give me a buzz in the pool, rich boy?”

* * *

  
  


**Next day**

“Good morning, Mister Stark.”

The older man in the crisp Armani suit turned and smiled. “Miss Parkinson. How are we today? Sleep well?”

“Like a log, thank you.”

“Looks like a nasty graze,” he said gesturing towards the rough scrape on her thigh.

“Nothing serious. I was… distracted. Trouble with the wave machine again?” She nodded towards the pool, where a machine was busy pumping the water out. Hazard signs were scattered around the edges, warning that the pool would not be available for the weekend.

Howard grimaced, but covered it with a smile. “Just routine cleaning. Should be up and running again soon.”

“That’s good, I’ll need somewhere to cool off later. Who knew that the Carpathian mountains could have such aggressive summers?”

“It has been a good one so far. How are things at the café?”

“Very good. I’d like to meet with you, or one of your people, if that’s possible? I have a few ideas I’d like to float past you.”

“Absolutely,” he said, “I’ll have Jarvis pop down and talk schedules later today.”

“Thank you.”

They turned as they heard the sound of another early riser. Pansy smirked as the newcomer glanced at the pool and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Morning, dad.” There was a slight blush visible beneath his sunglasses.

“Anthony.” Howard’s voice held a note of disappointment, and Pansy did her best to control her amused expression. “Have you two met?” Howard said, looking between them. “Miss Parkinson, my son, Anthony. Anthony, Pansy Parkinson. She’s one of our senior managers at the resort.”

Stark Junior extended his hand with a smile. “I’ve heard good things about you. Pleasure.”

“It certainly was.” She took his hand and gave him a languid smile, gazing at him over the top of her sunglasses.

He glanced at the pool, an unrepentant smile on his face. “Do you swim?”

“I’ve been known to paddle.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Maybe you will. Feel free to stop by the shop, we make a great blended iced coffee.”

“So I’ve heard. I’ll... give you a wave.”

Pansy stifled a snigger and turned back to Howard. “Must get on and open up. Mister Stark, lovely to see you again.”

“Have a good day, dear,” he said with a kind smile.

“Pansy,” Tony drawled.

Pansy walked away, casting an unsubtle wink over her shoulder. “Anthony.”

**Author's Note:**

> Location: Transylvania  
> Summer Word Prompt: Wave Pool
> 
> This one kinda got away with me, and I was having so much fun with this pair's snark and sass that I nearly forgot to add the wave pool lol
> 
> I would also like to gift this story to the lovely xxDustNight88, simply for being a wonderful lady, a kind soul, and is (I know) a fan of this pairing (I know you are too, Red, but I've already written you a gift lol).
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear your thoughts, if you care to give them x
> 
> Credits:  
> > Quote from Stan Lee: Reddit AMA  
> > Credit to Questionable Content for Tony's conversation with the customer about perception


End file.
